


Imperfection

by darkcyan



Series: Tumblr Fics [4]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, M/M, being domestic and ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 10:33:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5202572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkcyan/pseuds/darkcyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shuuichi can be oblivious sometimes, but he notices the important things eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imperfection

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the light we kindle here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2442845) by [copperiisulfate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/copperiisulfate/pseuds/copperiisulfate), [lady_peony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_peony/pseuds/lady_peony). 



> And following in the tradition of not actually writing birthday fic for my favorite awful exorcists, but cheating instead, I'm posting [this](http://cyanmnemosyne.tumblr.com/post/127459676103/nudges-your-drink-of-choice-across-the-bar) slightly-closer-to-drabble in honor of the (once again belated oops) birthday of my favorite sparkliest of suspicious exorcists. :) 
> 
> Many thanks to [copperiisulfate](http://archiveofourown.org/users/copperiisulfate/pseuds/copperiisulfate) and [lady_peony](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_peony/pseuds/lady_peony) for coming up with such a wonderfully squishy AU. :) Hopefully you don't mind the liberties I've taken with the idea ahaha ...

“I’m home!” Shuuichi called. He nudged open the door and toed off his shoes, setting the haphazard pile of scrolls and journals in his arms on the small table near the door. They completely covered a handful of pieces of unsorted mail, and threatened to spill over on top of the telephone.

“Welcome back!” Seiji replied. From the kitchen?

“You’re cooking again?” Shuuichi asked, not quite sure whether to be pleased or mildly concerned. Seiji’s creations didn’t always work out quite right, at first. Very rarely were they _inedible_ , but when he was out of sorts because his current project didn’t measure up to his exacting standards, neither was he the easiest person to live with. “What is it this time?”

… Not that either of them were exactly model roommates at the best of times.

“As usual, it’s a secret.” Seiji emerged from the kitchen, a streak of white across his left cheek. “How was your visit?”

Shuuichi swiped a finger across and tasted it. Sweet rice flour. “You’re not making mochi, are you?”

“… You just smeared it further, didn’t you.” Seiji looked mildly exasperated. “And I _said_ , it’s a secret.”

It probably _was_ mochi then; he always got the most defensive about his desserts. “Be sure to clean up right away,” Shuuichi said. “Sumi- _san_ used to complain that it’s like cement if you let it dry.”

“Out.”

Shuuichi laughed. “I’ll be in the office if you need me.” He paused to regather the scrolls as Seiji pointedly turned back into the kitchen.   “Oh, and the trip was fine!” That was … an over-simplification, and Seiji more than aware enough of the realities of the situation to know that. But in terms of how visits home usually went, he’d definitely experienced far worse.

“Good!” came the somewhat distracted reply.

Still smiling fondly, Shuuichi left.

* * *

 

_So if I chain them_ that _way …_

Shuuichi squinted at the scroll, trying to make out the details of the messily hand-written and now faded instructions. The diagrams seemed clear, but, well, he’d thought _that_ before.

The overhead light sputtered on, and he turned, blinking owlishly, to see Seiji just lowering his hand from pulling the cord. “You’ll start _actually_ needing glasses,” he said. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Is it really that late already?” Shuuichi rolled the scroll back up and put it down reluctantly.

Seiji didn’t bother to dignify that with a reply. “From the Natori compound, I assume?”

“From the north storehouse. There’s some interesting stuff in there.” Growing up, he’d spent most of his time in the storehouses closer to the main house, fearing being caught too far away without any alternate excuse.

They’d all known exactly what he was doing. But his father and grandfather had been grudgingly willing to pretend otherwise as long as he didn’t rub their noses in it.

At least now he didn’t need to pretend. The worst they could do was disown him, and both he and they knew that that wasn’t going to happen.

Seiji raised an eyebrow as Shuuichi stood and stretched. “Grandfather wasn’t at home,” he said. He much preferred his father’s stilted attempts at politeness and disapproving stares to the way his grandfather simply berated him.

“And here I’d assumed that you were just late because you’d been mobbed by fans.”

“I _was_ wearing my hat and trench coat and sunglasses.”

“Those don’t disguise you nearly as well as you think they do.”

Shuuichi raised a finger to protest this clearly unfair maligning of his favorite disguise, but Seiji circled around and pushed gently at his shoulders. “Dinner is waiting. You can be wrong later.”

“Hey!”

* * *

 

_Oh, so_ that _means –_

“Shuuichi?”

“Hm?”

“Reading those scrolls again?”

He nodded absently. “I should really just bring everything over.”

“Not having to deal with your family anymore would certainly be a plus,” Seiji agreed, casually leaning against the wall. “We really _don’t_ have room, though.”

That, unfortunately, was true. Despite being members of large old families – despite Seiji being the _head_ of one of said families – actually taking advantage of that accumulated wealth tended to involve more strings attached, paperwork, or both than either of them was usually willing to deal with. The combined income of two exorcists and an actor was sufficient for a comfortable apartment large enough for them to set aside separate rooms for office and workroom, but it still wouldn’t be able to hold even a fraction of the Natori family exorcist materials, much less the Matoba ones.

“On the bright side, the place will be yours eventually.”

That didn’t seem like an entirely appropriate context for use of the words ‘bright side’, but Seiji knew as well as Shuuichi that there was little love lost between him and the rest of his family; much as Shuuichi knew – if not entirely understood – how close Seiji had been to his father before he died. He saw little point in protesting for form’s sake alone.

“Probably not for a number of years yet.” And even Shuuichi would not have been able to say how much of the hope in his tone of voice was sincere.

His eyes drifted inexorably back to the scroll, and Seiji pushed away from the wall, mussing Shuuichi’s hair as he passed. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Shuuichi hummed his acknowledgment.

_In that case, this over here –_

It didn’t occur to him to wonder what Seiji had wanted until several hours later.

* * *

When he returned to the workroom after a quick trip to the bathroom, Shuuichi paused at the door. A small plate – undecorated, one of the ones they used on a daily basis – sat a safe distance away from the preliminary version he’d sketched out of one of spell circles he’d found in his reading.

On top of it sat three slightly misshapen white lumps, one with a bit of dark red paste leaking out the side through a small tear. Shuuichi crouched and prodded one of the intact ones with a finger.

“Seiji?”

A few moments, and he appeared in the workroom doorway. “Yes?”

“Is everything all right?”

Shuuichi had no doubt that they’d taste wonderful. But Seiji _never_ let him see creations this imperfect without stringent protest or extensive disclaimers.

“Of course,” Seiji replied, expression maddeningly unhelpful. “Why wouldn’t it be?” And was that a slight edge to his tone?

Shuuichi considered the tone and the imperfect mochi; Seiji’s occasional appearances in the office for no discernible reason and his own absorption the past several days. “Wait a minute. Are you _jealous_?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Shuuichi laughed. “If you wanted to go through the scrolls with me, you could have just _said_ so.” He didn’t think they were Natori family secrets – and honestly, even if they were, he didn’t really care. He was the last of his line and likely to remain so; he’d rather Seiji have the information than whatever vultures came along after his death.

He reached for one of the mochi, and only just barely managed to pick it up – the leaky one – before Seiji practically snatched the plate out from under it. “Why would you want to eat that one? It’s lumpy, and I made it too thin on one side –”

Something in Shuuichi eased at this return to status quo.

“I’m sure it’s still delicious,” Shuuichi said. “Now are you going to come over and tell me whether you think I got this symbol right or not?”

“Well, if you insist …”

It was.


End file.
